In the Palm of his Hands
by Kebara
Summary: Harry has always tried to fill the expectations of the people around him. Anyone and everyone had an opinion of who Harry Potter should be. When he finally reaches his breaking point he strikes out on his own, setting off a series of events that bring him on a globetrotting adventure where discovering his freedom just might lead to discovering himself. AU 4th year.
1. It Begins

Summary:

Harry has always tried to fill the expectations of the people around him. From his relatives to his friends and the people in the magical world everyone had an opinion of who Harry Potter should be. When he finally reaches his breaking point he strikes out on his own, setting off a series of events that bring him on a globetrotting adventure where discovering his freedom just might lead to discover himself along the way. AU powerful!harry. Possible multi crossover. End of 4th year.

A/N: this is a story that I thought up a long time ago with a good friend of mine. She continued with it for some time but I'm going to try picking it up and giving it a 'fresh coat of paint'. This story was originally thought of jokingly so some areas might be a bit crackish but I'll see if I can get a decent semi-serious multi-chap out of it. Note that as this is an AU a lot of people are probably going to be at least a little OOC especially Harry, but I am going to stick to a few solid personality traits. As with any person who writes please no hate, but feel free to let me know if it gets absolutely horrible or horrible at all really. Also this will be my longest authors note unless I'm answering questions, if there are any.

So here is a disclaimer

I do not own Harry Potter. He and all the characters from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling

And without further ado, let's get this started.

Prologue – In Which It Begins

June 21st – Location: Unknown

Our story begins surprisingly not with a dark and stormy night. In fact it was a rather warm summer evening, one that usually finds friends and family sitting together and enjoying each other's company and fresh air. Despite the pleasant evening there were still some who were doings things that were decidedly unpleasant. As an active and valued member of the Order of the Phoenix Remus Lupin was one of the few doing just that. He should have been spending a lovely summer evening at home relaxing. Instead, we find this poor man trudging through a veritable jungle that seemed to fit right into the idea of cursed forest. What dastardly plot could have possibly brought him out to this isolated area under the cover of darkness?

Silently Remus cursed Dumbledore for sending him out here.

Even though he was the obvious choice for speaking with these people he wished that Albus could have possibly sent someone else with him, though he grudgingly understood his lack of partner. After all werewolves tended to be a suspicious bunch when it concerned people trying to pull them out of isolation and having a group of wizards barge into their homes was indeed more alarming then a single lycanthrope. He supposed he was only so nervous because he just wasn't as comfortable with his lycanthropy as these people tended to be and his aversion to their choices made the meetings all the more awkward and difficult.

This entire situation had all started after the disaster that was the Tri-Wizard tournament. The return of the Dark Lord had lit a veritable fire under the Order and the various members were scrambling to prepare as best they could for the approaching war.

He of course had been tasked with trying to convince as many werewolf groups that he could find that siding with the Dark Lord in the upcoming conflicts was a major mistake. That was how he found himself on the backwater roads in the middle of who had any idea where he was. In fact he hadn't even seen any kind of trail or pathway in hours let alone a road. Of course Dumbledore had no idea where the lycan's homes were supposed to be and Remus had no idea why the older man thought he would have had any idea either, his own home being much closer to civilization. When he mentioned that he really wasn't sure where he was supposed to be looking all the Headmaster had told him was, _"Trust your instincts my boy, they will not lead you astray."_

Remus scoffed. His instincts had lead him astray a great many times in the years gone by. Foremost in his memory was never suspecting that Peter Pettigrew was as much a rat as his form showed and instead believing that Sirius, his best friend and brother in everything but blood had betrayed James, Lily and Harry. Sirius had loved them more than he loved himself, which was a great feat for the entirely too vain animagus. Good lot his instincts had done for him so far.

Thinking of Sirius made him remember the unfortunate man was currently shut in his old childhood home at number 12 Grimmauld Place. A prisoner of circumstance in an entirely too dusty cell he could certainly do with some company. God knows he must have already completely trashed some of the house as a dog. Maybe when he finished talking with the werewolves he could meet with Sirius and sit to have a good long talk, maybe by that time they could also bring Harry to the house. That would certainly brighten Sirius' mood.

His budding smile was quickly wiped of his face as Remus looked around himself again and sighed. How was he supposed to find anything at this time of night? Sure being a werewolf came with certain advantages in the fields of night vision, enhanced smell and the like but that didn't stop him from being far too tired of his search already to even try and continue. The breeze was picking up and he turned around to see if he was able to find his way back to his camp for the night. Suddenly he heard the snap of a branch underfoot.

"Hello?" he called raising his wand in what he hoped was the right direction.

It wasn't.

A quiet swish of fabric and all Remus saw was black.

Thanks for checking this out, Next chapter we catch up with our hero Harry!


	2. Happiness Is A Distant Star

Hello, thank you for the positive feedback. This chapter is focusing on Harry and how he's feeling about his situation right now. By the way, type style for speech will now appear as it is needed. Thanks for reading.

I do not own Harry Potter. He and all the characters from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling.

'_Thought'_

"Speech"

"_Flashback"_

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Chapter 1: In Which Happiness Is A Distant Star

June 21st - Location: The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England

Harry Potter was not a happy camper. If you had to compare him to a camper at all he would most likely be the one that has decided to sit curled up in the corner and sulk the entire day away like a petulant child. This would actually a perfect comparison as that is exactly what our hero had decided to do. The lanky boy of fourteen years had grabbed a blanket, sat himself in the corner of his room upon his return the Privet Drive some days ago and had since then nary made a single move.

Harry supposed that he was a little grateful that his family had yet to start their regular summer routine of having him slave away at the various chores to be done in and around the house. He was also quite certain his aunt would've had a fit at state of his hair face and clothing. Duddly's hand me downs looked even worse on him than normal, the originally baggy clothing seemed to already pool around him as if he were wasting away a little every minute. If anyone could have caught a glimpse of his face they would have seen the bloodshot eyes of a young man who hadn't slept a solid night for some time. Even his rather famous bird's nest of a hair style had seemed to be weighed down by the heavy atmosphere.

Actually that was probably from not washing it.

A scowl made its way onto the young man's face. His hands were clenching and relaxing around his knees in discomfort, his magic almost buzzing beneath his  
skin at his swirling emotional state.

He let out a great sigh as his head knocked back onto the wall.

'_What am I doing'_ thought Harry his limbs slowly uncoiling from his corner, limp as the threads from a ball of yarn.

'_What would Ron and Hermione say if they saw me like this' _he pictured Hermione fluttering around him like a miniature Madam Pomfry, tsking at his state of disarray demanding he see one of the professors like it would solve all of his problems. A small smirk emerged before it was wiped off as he remembered the warning Professor Dumbledore had given him before leaving Hogwarts.

"_Harry my boy, with everything that has happened I find it best that you try not to contact anyone this summer, I've already warned your friends not to write you. Don't worry though you'll be able to meet with everyone later, until then I'm sure you'll be just fine back with your relatives"_

'_Not likely'_ he scoffed. He pitched himself forward onto his hands and supporting himself with the wall tried to bring himself to his feet. He felt the twinge of muscles that have stayed in one place for too long but slowly made his way to the door and into the hall. Leaning his way out the door he listened to the rest of the house…. Not a squeak

'_Lucky'_ he thought _'must have gone out for something'_

Sure that his relatives must be participating in some form of social torture in the name of being normal, he shuffled his way to the bathroom. Slipping his way into the room he locked the door behind him and turned his eyes to the mirror.

Greasy was the first thing that came to mind.

" Blo..ody Hel..l!" he coughed out, his throat dry_, 'It's like the twins have gone and glued Snape's hair to my head'_ he stared horrified at the heavy greasy locks that had piled themselves on the top of his head.

He nearly ripped of the shower curtain trying to get himself under the stream of water, he did rip his clothes as he pulled them from his body and even almost forgot his socks as he stepped under the shower head. As the heavy suds and hot water washed away the image of permanently having a greasy mop as a  
head, it revealed a number of less pleasant ones.

A graveyard settled on a backdrop of darkness.

A cruel smile and high laugh meeting him from the other end of a wand

A pair of empty eyes

"_Kill the spare!"_

Harry snapped open his eyes as he slammed his arm against the tiled wall.

Despite what he knew his friends must think, he wasn't depressed, maybe upset, who wouldn't be, but it wasn't sadness that had him curled up into a ball like a hedgehog.

No

He was angry.

Angry at himself for falling into Voldemort's clutches, and for dragging along someone innocent.

Angry at his friends for not believing in him, for not trying to reach out to him when he needed them.

Angry at Dumbledore for closing him off from people when he needed them the most.

Angry at Wormtail for killing Cedric, taking him from his family and friends.

Angry at Voldemort for bringing the war to him when he was only a year old.

At everything and everyone he was whole heartedly and undeniably furious.

And it _terrified _him.

Harry had never regretted his actions when he was angry before. Not when he'd word off to Malfoy, definitely not when he blew up Aunt Marge last summer, not even when he'd argue with Ron.

But this kind of anger made him grit his teeth and clench his knuckles until they were white just waiting to lash out at someone. It unsettled him, feeling that violent. It reminded him of Voldemort, liberal with his curses and biting words. He knew wasn't like that; or at least he hoped.

'_No, I know I'm not like Voldemort I'll never be like him, I refuse' _Harry promised himself. Resolve back in place his anger backed away but Harry knew it was only temporary. He shivered and stepped out of the shower wrapping himself in one of the towels. Harry slipped into some fresher clothing before heading down to the kitchen to grab some water.

With angsty seemingly becoming his natural emotional state recently he knew something needed to be done. Therefore some deep soul-searching was in order. He needed to find some way to let go of a little of his anger.

Heading back to his bedroom he let out another sigh and stretched himself out on his cot. Hoping to catch up on some sleep, but knowing he'd still need to come up with a solution to his problems when he woke, he let his eyes drift shut. Deep down a small part of him thought

'_I should just leave, they don't really need me here' _he scoffed at the ridiculous idea of him managing to run away from it all as he began to drift off. But in the last moment before the tired boy finally drifted off to sleep an even smaller part of him thought

...

...

'_Why not?'_

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Thanks for reading. Next chapter we'll see if Harry comes up with anymore bright ideas and might get an idea what everyone else is up too.


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